We hosted a birthday party today for the Precious Princess, which loosely translated means we attempted the parental equivalent of a Normandy Beach landing. First off, there was a bouncy castle involved so I should have known right away that my lawyerly tendency toward seeing the potential for traumatic and life threatening injuries would cause me untold amounts of anxiety demonstrating that not only was I in denial I was also in some crazed party planning state that made me think the impossible was possible. Clearly I have been in some sort of self-loathing, bananas head space from start to finish because I allowed the Precious Princess to turn the planning for her own four year old party into this huge, overwhelming, pressure-laden thing where the possibility for failure was very real and that is never a good thing when dealing with a three foot tall person who's tolerance for disappointment is like, well, let's just say it's not very good.
And before you think that I am some sort of post-toddler party planner extraordinare, I did what any self-respecting working mother would do and outsourced the whole thing, hired a space (they catered and provided the death-trap bouncy castle) had cake and balloons ordered and delivered, had amah do loot bags; in fact, it's a miracle I didn't just hire a look-a-like for the actual party (mental note, see if possible to get look-a-like to attend five year old party, October 2009).
It's over now, I did it, more or less, I think it was more a success than a failure and I hope that the other parents don't judge me too harshly for the uber-dramatic Precious Princess breakdowns; errrmmm, in no particular order, they were: failing to win a prize at pass the parcel....screaming, jumping up and down like a lunatic....balloon dog was lost...repeat screaming and jumping.....some jostling during the cake.....repeat screaming and carrying on....ok, enough, I need a valium and a drink STAT.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment